Page 134 of Almost Ours
I slid my phone back into my pocket and stepped inside, already looking around, expecting to see Harper bustling behind the counter, her hair pulled back, flour dusting her apron. But she wasn’t there.
My smile faltered.
Benny looked up, grinning. “Ryan! Didn’t know you were back yet. Need something?”
“Morning, Benny.” I walked up to the counter, glancing toward the back. “Where’s Harper?”
“She called in sick,” Benny said, setting down his rag. “Poor things got a stomach bug or something.”
A knot tightened in my gut. Harper never called in sick. She was the kind of person who showed up no matter what.
I forced my voice to stay casual. “Oh. Did she say anything else?”
“Nope, just that she wasn’t feeling well.” He hesitated, then scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, wait. I almost forgot. There was this guy here last night, right before we closed, asking about her.”
I stiffened. “What guy?”
Benny shrugged, his frown deepening. “Said he was her cousin. Seemed kinda off, though. I didn’t give him any info–he was asking about Connor….” His words trailed off, and I watched the color drain from his face. Benny’s eyes darted up to mine, widening as the pieces clicked together. My stomach dropped before he even said a word.
Everything inside me went razor-sharp in an instant.
Benny looked like he was about to say more, but I was already moving.
I shoved through the door, yanking my phone from my pocket. I called Harper.
Straight to voicemail.
“Fuck,” I tried again. Same result.
The knot in my stomach twisted tighter. Sliding into the driver’s seat, my hands locked around the wheel until my knuckles went white.
Something wasn’t right–every nerve in my body screamed it.
The engine roared as I floored it, heading straight for her house.
I pulled into Harper’s driveway, my tires crunching against the gravel. My chest tightened as I scanned the property. Mrs. Knox’s house next door was dark, her car gone. Right–she was away visiting her grandkids for a couple of weeks.
The unease in my gut clawed its way up to my chest. Something was wrong.
I jumped out of the truck, barely registering the slam of the door behind me. My boots thudding against the porch steps as I took them two at a time. As I reached for the doorknob, something in the corner of my eye stopped me.
I turned, looking through the window.
My heart fucking stopped.
Harper.
She was slumped in the armchair, her head bowed, one arm gripping the armrest like it was the only thing holding her upright. When she lifted her face, the air in my lungs vanished.
Her eye was swollen shut, an ugly bruise darkening her delicate skin. Her lip was split, a thin trail of blood streaking down her chin. A gash above her temple seeped, staining her hair, leaving crimson streaks on her cheek.
A cold blinding rage ripped through me.
Who did this?
Before I could move, a figure stepped into view. A man. He stood in front of her, back to me, blocking my view of her entirely. I didn’t even have to see his face to know exactly who it was.
Reid.
